


take free reign.

by mr_charles



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Caning, Collars, F/M, Humiliation, M/M, Spanking, dom!alana, dom!hannibal, sub!Will
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-24
Updated: 2013-05-24
Packaged: 2017-12-12 20:06:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/815510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mr_charles/pseuds/mr_charles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are various things that can calm Will Graham down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Can be read in-universe with "an old solution" but you don't need to read that to understand what's going on here.

It's that time again. Hannibal could tell, often days in advance, when good Will would need him and Dr. Bloom. They're over for dinner at Hannibal's tonight. Will says nothing, offers no suggestion of what he wants ( _needs_ ), and just calmly picks at his dinner.

"Will," Hannibal's voice is calm but Will jumps like he's been shocked. "Go upstairs." Will jerks his head in what might be a nod before leaving the table. "Dr. Bloom, would you care to clean up here?"

"Absolutely, Dr. Lecter." Her voice is cheery as she gathers up the used dishes. Cleaning up is what Alana Bloom does best.

As Hannibal makes his way to the spare bedroom they use for these... proclivities, he finds Will's clothing thrown haphazardly along the stairs and along the pristine carpet leading to the bedroom. Hannibal gathers up what he can, dumping the clothes into a nearby laundry basket. 

Of course the sight in the bedroom nearly makes up for Will's atrocities. Will is kneeling at the foot of the large bed. He is naked as the day he was born, save for the worn, brown leather collar around his neck.

( _"It matches his hair," Alana had justified the day she clasped is around his neck_ )

He says nothing. He doesn't twitch. It's as if he didn't hear Hannibal come in.

"Will, get in position." No other words are needed while Hannibal scans the small chest in which they keep the devices needed for these games. Without a word, only a small sigh, does Will stand and bend over, forearms resting against the bed, head bowed. His legs are spread, back arched, all to put his ample backside on display.

"Please."

Normally Hannibal has to ask Will to say that word. The boy must be even more desperate that usual. He knows what he did, good Will does. Probably did it on purpose so Hannibal would use something more sinister on him tonight. Some nights it takes only a few humiliating words and firm swats to put Will Graham's mind back at ease. Something particularly horrid must have happened in Jack Crawford's labyrinth.

He can hear pop music softly playing and running water downstairs while Alana does dishes. With a small smile, he chooses the narrow cane for the evening's festivities. It's a sure weight in his hands and Will knows well enough the damage it can do. He can still hear Beverly Katz's voice asking "why aren't you sitting?" in his head; he smiles at the memory.

"Hold still." A light swat to Will's thigh quells the younger man's nervous twitching. "Apologize."

"Sorry sir."

"Good boy. Ask."

"How many, sir?"

"I think ten will get the point across. Then we'll see about other implements. Kiss it."

Gingerly, Will places his dry lips to the cane. Hannibal straightens at the thought of what those dry lips will do later. Hannibal hears the click of the television downstairs; Alana will not interrupt the time he and Will have together just like Hannibal will not interrupt the time she and Will have together.

Will is silent on the first smack of the cane against sensitive skin.

The third makes him whimper.

He's all but crying by the seventh.

The tenth makes him cry out, a loud sharp noise that no doubt the good Doctor Bloom heard from downstairs.

Hannibal wants to continue wants to turn the delicate flesh to ribbons of blood and pink scars wants to- but young Will is not ready for that. Not yet.

But he can take what comes next. Hannibal returns the cane, but does not tell Will to stand. With one hand braced on the younger man’s lower back, he delivers blows to the abused flesh of Will’s backside. Will’s jerking against the bedding, not in pain but in desperation to find release. Hannibal allows him to be loud and unabashed in these moments, relishing Will’s moans as he kneads and pulls at the reddened flesh.

Hannibal loses count of how many times he brings his hand down on Will’s ass but keeps going until both hands are stiff and sore. Leaving Will shivering and bent over, he calls downstairs.

“Dr. Bloom, would you care to clean up here?”


	2. Chapter 2

“Hey, hey, hey, shh.” Alana’s voice is soft as she runs the sponge carefully over Will’s back. She kneels, still dressed impeccably (Will and Hannibal are fond for Alana’s preferences for pencil skirts), by Hannibal’s ornate bathtub. Will’s hands are braced on either side of the tub, raised up on his knees. The warm water and soft oils Alana dribbled into bathtub soothe the ache in his ass.

“T-thank you.” Will’s voice is shaky as Alana tries her best to clean the welts on his ass and lower back.

“He really did a number tonight, didn’t he?” Alana tuts. “You relax. I have some cream for these kinds of things.” Will relaxes into the warm water as Alana’s heels clack out of the bathroom.

Through the cracked door, Will can faintly hear Alana and Hannibal debating on how to end the evening. Through Will's hazy state, he can faintly make out Alana's urge for the evening to end like last time. Will doesn't remember much of that evening except for a few flashes of Alana taking him apart with a strap-on while Hannibal watched.

"No, Dr. Bloom. That's not what young Will needs tonight."

Alana sighs, a bit of frustration leaking in. “You’re right. He’s been…” The sentence trails off (or maybe because Will’s beginning to doze in the tub) but Alana’s heels clack back into the bathroom.

“Up, up,” she urges. She treats him the way he treats a new stray; gentle like he’ll flee. She maneuvers Will’s limp body until he’s brace over the edge of the tub, ass in the air. The cool air from the bathroom nearly burns and he half expects Alana to unleash her own punishment on him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“For what?” Alana is smoothing lotion into the welts, the touch more clinical than sensual.

“Because I won’t get you off tonight.”

“Oh, that’s okay, Will,” Alana’s voice is soft even as she slides two lotion-slick fingers inside him. “Because next time, Will? That is all you’re going to do.”

“But what about-“

“Oh, he’ll punish you alright.” Alana’s fucking him with her fingers slowly, deliberately avoiding the one spot that’ll make him see stars. “But then you will crawl up that big bed to me and make it all up. Won’t you, Will?”

“Yes.” Her fingers are so close, he’s so close, if only she’d-

She stops. “’Yes’ what, Will?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

"Good boy." He can hear the smile in her voice. "Here's what'll happen. Hannibal will punish you, much like he did tonight, but it'll be me you apologize to." She kisses his hair. "First with your fingers, then with your mouth." A pause. "Then maybe again with your mouth. Would you like that, WIll?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Alana chuckles. "And then you can fuck me. I'll dig my nails into the welts on your ass to make you go faster, harder. And then after I've come once, maybe twice, then you can come. But you'll still have to apologize to Hannibal. What would you do, Will, to apologize?"

"I'd- I'd suck him. Let him fuck my face, let him come on it."

"Good answer, Will." The fucking continues, harder. He’s bucking against her fingers, crying out. All it takes is one small shift and her fingers are brushing that spot with every thrust. He’s so close, he wants to-

“Come on, Will. You can do it.” Alana smiles.

With a shout, Will comes and sullies the bathwater. Alana strokes his hair through the aftershocks (and through a few cruel twists of her fingers) before gently washing her own hands. She towel-dries him and helps him into bed. She shuts the bedroom door with a small click and begins to head downstairs to gather her things when Hannibal’s voice stops her.

“Dr. Bloom, leaving so early?”

“I figured you and Will were-“

“Will and I are done for the evening,” Hannibal says calmly as he leads Alana to his bedroom with a guiding hand on her lower back. “However, the evening has just begun for me and you.”

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to Jamie because she knows what to prompt me when we're both panicking over tonight's Hannibal.


End file.
